


Percy Jackson (AKA Pepe Jacobson) and the Camp Games

by Sniperdoodle



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: And half-blood games, But with camp games, F/M, Fun and Games, Kinda like the Olympics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1621031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sniperdoodle/pseuds/Sniperdoodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Gaea is defeated, the gods suggest (order) that the Greek demigods share their annual Camp Games with the Roman demigods as "bonding". It's hectic as there are canoe races, sack races, actual regular camp games, chariot races, guinea pig armor, dam jokes, and Frank and Leo try to get to he bottom of who Pepe Jacobson is? (It's Percy but they haven't caught onto the fact that Mr. D doesn't use anyone's names)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Percy Jackson (AKA Pepe Jacobson) and the Camp Games

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. A non-Homestuck fanfiction. Amazing. Truly . . . amazing.

            “Percy! I got the leg!” Tyson ran up to me with a robotic leg in his hand looking very excited.

            “Great but . . . .” I informed Tyson. “Why do I need a robotic leg?”

            “For the three-legged race,” Tyson explained.

            “Oh, okay, right, you probably don’t play that underwater,” I concurred.

            “Nope!” Tyson agreed.

            “Well, in a three-legged race, it’s two people with their legs tied together so its like they have three legs,” I tried to explain this concept to my half-brother.

            “Oh,” Tyson said as he got a hold of the concept of the game. “So what are we going to do with the leg?”

            “I dunno,” I shrugged. “Maybe we can hit people with it during the canoe race.”

            “Alright!” Tyson agreed. “I’m gonna go an’ work on the chariot.”

            Tyson then ran off leaving me to continue working on the canoe.

            It was that time of year again. The annual Camp Half-Blood Games. It was like our own Olympics we held each summer. It had classic mortal-camp competitions like canoe races, pie-eating contests, three-legged races and other things like that. Mixed in was that special Greek twist, which meant rock-wall climbing (with the lava), chariot races (added after Tantalus made us do it during my second year), tournaments, and finally, a game of capture the flag on the last day. It was a two-week long event that pitted the cabins against each other. Whoever won the most games won the games, and the winning cabin had the right to a free week while everyone else cleaned up all the damage done by the games.

            This year was different though. Since last year we had to deal with Giants and Gaea rising and Romans, the gods suggested (more like ordered) some friendly bonding with the Romans. Mr. D (who “happily” returned to his position at the camp this summer) decided to make it more fun (for him) to watch the Greeks and the Romans “bond” by competing against each other in a delightful mix of non-violent chipper games and deadly battles. Mr. D also assigned me to be in charge of the Romans. Or by me, I mean Peter Johnson. Or any of the other names Mr. D gave me.

            It was actually kinda funny though. Before the Second Titan War, everyone knew that if Mr. D was talking about a guy who had the initials PJ, then he was talking about me. It was a smaller camp back then and the only person who was imprinted in their memory forever with those initials was _moi_. However, in between the Second Titan War and after the Second Giant War, mixed with the disappearance with Mr. D and myself and the addition of hundreds of campers, people forgot about old Peter Johnson. Or Perry Johansson. Or Pedro. Or Pierre.

            So when Mr. D announced to the camp one night at dinner that Pepe Jacobson was in charge of the Romans and their coming, everyone who wasn’t at camp before the Second Titan War went on a mad-hunt for Pepe Jacobson. Everyone who was at camp before and during the Second Titan War sat back as the train wreck occurred. Annabeth would have done something to stop it, but she was working on an architect thing and couldn’t be bothered with leaving the cabin to get food, so I promised that I would bring her some food later.

            With Annabeth somehow oblivious and no one stepping into to explain that I was Pepe Jacobson (even Chiron didn’t say anything, maybe it was to teach Mr. D a lesson) the campers went on a wild goose hunt for Pepe. No one knew who he was or even who his godly parent was, but everyone was convinced that Pepe was real. Speculations rose that Pepe died in the Second Titan War, the Second Giant War, was killed by a roman, or went on a quest and never returned. Some of the younger campers started a rumor that Pepe lived under Zeus’ Fist because he was a recluse.

            I teamed up with the Stolls to only add more confusion. I did my job as Mr. D ordered me to so he wouldn’t try to turn my into a dolphin, telling anyone who didn’t know that I was doing this for Pepe. When someone tried to ask me where Pepe is, I would brush them off saying that I was very busy or just saying that Pepe was a nice guy. The Stolls did the same, except that they didn't help me. They just talked about Pepe loudly so they could be overheard.

            Jason only found out because Mr. D ordered him to give a packet from the Romans to Pete. When Jason told Mr. D that he thought that Pepe was in charge of the Romans, and Mr. D agreed. Chiron informed Jason that I was Pepe, Pete, and any other name starting with a ‘p’ that Mr. D uttered. Jason tried to confront me but with the help of the Stolls we convinced him to help us and Pepe.

            Now, on the day that the Romans are arriving and the Camp games start, no one has figured out that Pepe’s not real. I know that Annabeth has caught on, but probably said nothing like the rest of the old campers. And Jason and the Stolls agreed with me to bring the Romans into the Pepe lie for fun. So these two weeks were going to be even better all because of Pepe.

            So I continued to work on my canoe for the canoe race. Paul actually knew something about canoes and before the summer started on a nice day we went on canoeing. Mixed with my already natural-born instinct about all water crafts and what Paul taught me, it was going to be a killer canoe. I was planning on painting it like a shark before water-proofing it. It was a good thing that the canoe race wasn’t until next week.

            “Percy,” Chiron came up behind the Poseidon cabin where I was working. “Could you find Leo and send him to the Big House? I have to explain to him about lighting the pyre.”

            “Sure,” I dust my hands off before standing up. “Did you find any paint yet?”

            “The Apollo cabin has some,” Chiron answered. “Ask them later.”

            “Thanks,” I replied and we walked off in opposite directions. I found Leo struggling in a one-on-one basketball game against Jason on the basketball court. “Leo!”

            “What?” Leo stumbled over to me, dripping with sweat and breathing heavy. On the other hand, Jason was glowing.

            “Pepe told me to tell you that Chiron told him to tell you that Chiron wants to see you in the Big House to the talk about you lighting the pyre,” I informed Leo.

            “Who’s Pepe!?” Leo yelled out towards the sky.

            “He’s a nice guy,” I answered.

            “When are the Romans coming?” Jason asked as he made a free-shot.

            “I dunno, I’d have to ask Pepe,” I replied.

            “I’m leaving!” Leo decided upon, unhappy that he was not told who Pepe was.

            Once Leo was out of earshot I answered the question truthfully, “Any time now.”

            “You ready to kick some Roman butt?” Jason asked.

            “What are you talking about? You don’t have a team,” I reminded Jason, he being the only-child of the thunder god at the camp.

            “I talked to Thalia,” Jason answered. “She’s coming with the Hunters today.”

            “Uhg,” I groaned. “Another chance to have our butts kicked by the immortal ladies of the hunt.”

            After that, I heard the loud squealing of the ancient camp bus try to put on the brakes over the sounds of a hot summer day at Camp Half-Blood. That meant one thing: the Romans were here.

            “We’d better go,” I told Jason.

            “Who said I was going over there?” Jason asked.

            “Former Praetors stick together,” I blackmailed him.

            “Fine,” Jason agreed and we made our way over to the parking lot where the Romans were piling of the bus.

            When we arrived at the parking lot, Jason and I both had a couple of questions, but I was able to get mine out first.

            “How were you able to get through airport security?” I asked no one in particular.

            The entire Roman army (they somehow fit everyone on the squeaky bus, maybe with some magic) was dressed for battle while carrying suitcases.

            “No one’s armor could fit in the suitcase,” Frank answered walking up to Jason and Percy with Hazel and Reyna.

            “Why?” Jason asked. “Why did you bring the armor and . . . how did you get Hannibal on the bus!? Wait, HOW DID YOU GET HIM ON THE PLANE!? WHY IS HANNIBAL HERE!?”

            “We have no room for elephants,” I interjected. “And the only place that large enough to house an elephant-sized creature is being used for Mrs. O’Leary.”

            “You invited us to the games and we wanted to be prepared,” Reyna pointed out.

            “Not War Games,” Jason pointed out. “Camp Games. Two different things. The closest thing to the War Games is the game of capture the flag.”

            “Yeah, for the Camp Games we have three-legged race, sack races, egg races, canoe races, tug-o-war, pie eating contest, non-deadly stuff,” I explained. “Aside from the rock-climbing wall, the chariot race, the tournament, and the game of capture the flag.”

            “You could have told us earlier,” Reyna pointed out.

            “I thought Pepe sent you guys a memo,” I replied.

            “Who’s Pepe?” Hazel asked.

            “Great guy, helped organize the whole thing,” I explained.

            “You’ve probably met him; it’s just that he has an easy face to forget,” Jason added.

            “Who are you talking about?” Octavian budged into the conversation.

            “Why’s he here?” I asked Reyna.

            “Part of his punishment,” Reyna answered. “Your camp director, Mr. D, sent us a letter asking Octavian to come so he could use him as a personal servant. At least your camp director is better at giving the Romans information than your friend Pepe.”

            I then began to laugh as I thought of Octavian having to be the man-servant for Mr. D. I turned to Octavian and informed him, “I hope you have lots of fun with Mr. D. Just be careful not to anger him. He has a temper. And I don’t think you’ll look to good with a hole in your head.”

            Octavian looked startled and slowly walked away from the group in fear.

            “So what are the Camp Games like?” Hazel asked.

            “Ask Percy,” Jason pointed to me.

            “I don’t know,” I shrugged.

            “How do you not know you’ve been going to Camp Half-Blood for five years,” Frank pointed out.

            “And I never competed in any of the games,” I answered. “It’s my first time.”

            “Why?” Hazel asked.

            “Well, my first year I couldn’t compete because I didn’t have any siblings,” I began to explain. “The second year Tantalus was running the camp and he made us do chariot races, and then even after the quest into the Sea of Monster Thalia came back and we had to deal with that.”

            “Tantalus? You mean the guy that fed the gods human meat?” Hazel asked.

            “That’s the one,” I answered.

            “And who’s Thalia?” Reyna asked.

            “My older sister,” Jason answered that one.

            All three of them looked at Jason with surprise.

            “When Annabeth was eight and coming to Camp Half-Blood she was traveling with Thalia and another. Thalia was fighting off monster so Annabeth, the other guy, and Grover could get inside the borders of the camp. To make sure that she didn’t die, Zeus turned her into a tree. Years later, after we got the Golden Fleece from the Sea of Monsters, the tree Thalia was in spit her out. That following winter Thalia became the Head Hunter of the Hunters of Artemis,” I explained.

            “So that's two out of five years,” Frank stated.

            “Yeah so, the next year I got blown out of a volcano during a quest in the former Labyrinth and everyone thought I was dead but somehow Clarisse managed to convince everyone, with the help of the Ares cabin, that we should still hold the games. She got her wish, but they were held in my honor. I just found out about that this year,” I added.

            “How did you get blown out of a volcano?” Hazel asked.

            “Long story,” I sighed. “Then, after that summer was the Second Titan War, after that the Second Giant War, and finally, we can all relax and enjoy some friendly games.”

            “Quiet a story,” Reyna commented. “Oh and Percy, it’s an odd thing to be brining this up now, but there were some armor designs that I wanted your input on because it has been clear that you have been thrown around enough.”

            “Okay,” I seemed to be as confused as everyone standing around me. Reyna reached into her bag and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. She handed it to me, I opened it, and the promptly closed it before anyone else can see, “Not funny.”

            Reyna actually looked like she was trying not to laugh, which confused Frank, Hazel, Jason, and anyone not involved in the conversation more.

            “Let me see,” Jason stated as he snatched the paper away from me with lightning reflexes. He opened it up and twisted his face into a look of deep confusion, “It’s just a guinea pig in guinea pig armor. What’s so bad about it?”

            “That’s cool,” Frank commented as he looked at the page. “I want it. I could be like a . . . battle guinea pig.”

            “No,” Hazel and I said at the same time. Hazel said it because it was a bad idea. I said it because the picture was meant for me. “Let’s just getting moving before Reyna pulls out anymore pictures of guinea pigs in armor.”

            “I have one for Annabeth too,” Reyna laughed.

            “Is this another inside joke?” Jason asked. “Like the ‘dam’ one?”

            I snickered at that remembering the Hoover Dam fondly, “I guess it is an inside joke that I am not amused about. But Reyna and Annabeth aren’t involved in the joke. And your three will never be involved in any of them.”

            “I will gladly explain the guinea pig armor-” Reyna offered but I put my hand over her mouth, not afraid of any of the consequences.

            “No,” I informed her. “Just no.”

            Reyna then bit my hand.


End file.
